


they say that the stars take in the souls of those who lose their lives in space;they take them and make them into a new star;give them another life to live;

by bloodynargles



Series: bloodwork of tragedy; [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Gen, ah yes the delaware fic, the start of it all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:29:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2298248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodynargles/pseuds/bloodynargles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She didn't hate him. She didn't kill him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	they say that the stars take in the souls of those who lose their lives in space;they take them and make them into a new star;give them another life to live;

She didn't hate Delaware, he was just annoying sometimes, got in the way, said things without thinking, _did_ things without thinking. She didn't hate him, she _didn't_ kill him.

 

Angry flashbacks tear through her mind as she scrubs the tears from her face, staring into the bathroom mirror at her reddened skin before dropping her head, heavy, hot tears falling down her nose and dripping onto the sink below. Blue, almost green, eyes look up at their reflection after a minute of the silence weaving itself into the atmosphere, faded pink hair lies limp, hanging down the side of her head, not having been washed in three days, a scar across the bridge of her nose from when she was a rookie - when everything was _alright_. Its not anymore. She snorts, her fingers pressing against the rim of the sink, the material digging into her skin, the dull pressure not phasing her at all. Her eyes drop from the mirror to shampoo bottles cluttered on the side of the faucet, some unbranded, cheap soap with a engraved rose on the top of it. She wants to throw it at the wall. Wants to destroy this place like they destroyed _her_.

 

 

"No hostiles to the right." "You don't have to be so formal, you know." Delaware's blue grey coloured arm grabbed hers, but she tugged it away like she'd been stung by a wasp in the summertime. His sigh was barely audible over the distant hum of machines in the empty room, their radio signal had been long since cut off from the rest of the team. Delaware with Arizona, the director had said, couldn't have room for dislikes among team members. Then again, he'd also said that Maine would always work alone, but look at him now, Washington always needing to be in his sights, _partners_. She almost wonders if that's what her and Mex would have been, if they hadn't of been twins, or ever met at all before Freelancer - but then she goes onto thinking about who would have been left with their parents and where Henry would be without either of them. Its not worth sparing a thought on, its the way the world was, now, anyway.

 

"You don't like me, fine, but could we atleast work together? I mea-" There's a collection of footsteps and Delaware shoves her into a doorway, the shadowed, dark place covering the fact that two freelancers were just snooping in their base, not with innocent intentions, though. "Work together, you want that?" She hissed through her teeth, back pressed against a solid door, which she'd been glad to lean into and realise it was locked, no chance of her falling through and getting both of them killed. "Something like that." His voice was equally low, but he only got a sharp nod in reply before a message popped up in front of his view, his head bobbing once he'd read it, watching her use the shadows as she slinked away. He gets why some of the rookies call her Ghost, then, and after a brief moment of lookout he makes his way around the other side, a niggling feeling tugging his gut.

 

The active camo had been her go to enchancement since she first got drafted into Freelancer, but things had been leaked to enemies, and the director had given her the adaptive camo on the order to be camoflauged in her red colors at all times unless requested otherwise. She had to be careful, Nu was being quiet in her mind and Mu.... well, she never let him out for him to be active in there - he was dangerous, made her head hurt when he'd go off on one, they had her monitored for a week and a half after he'd been implanted. It wasn't fun, in any sense.

 

As she creeped through the compound the feeling of being followed increased with every corner she turned, a small stirring in her head making her suddenly aware of just how much she was letting her guard down at that second, her steps halting in the middle of a hallway with several corridors stretching off of it. She looks back to the dimly lit hall behind her, wishing only slightly that Delaware was there, silently following along like a servant would their master, but she was an agent now, she could do this on her own. The terrors of the dark aren't as scary as they used to be, clawing at the edges of reality and haunting them both until they got out of the darkness and light flooded in, coating everything in a glow that never seemed achievable, before.

 

Nothing seemed attainable, then.

 

 

She'd circled back to the meeting point and stood there as time seemed to go by faster than Delaware could walk, apparently. So she began to make her way to where they'd last been together, the machine hum getting louder as she neared it, the signal of her radio cutting in and out, Nu perking up at the strange occurence, his curiosity getting the better of him as he investigated why it was happening. The silence was strangling her until a voice came over her radio, a 'please' whispered against a hoarse throat and every nerve in her body pinpricking against her skin as she followed the path she set the other on, stumbling through a door to see his body curled up on the floor. Terror ran within her and Nu's trait began to shine through, his fear intensifying hers, sweat running down her face as she stared at Delaware, frozen even though she was burning alive.

 

Then the cold came, took away the sweltering heat and pulled her from the molten lava that she'd been bathing in, shook her free of Nu's grip, lightened the load and another voice spoke calmly in her mind, her senses coming back and temperature leveling. She takes a step towards her teammate, the shaking feeling of being watched coming to the forefront of her worries, her eyes scanning the room, noticing a crouching figure behind some crates, her hand gripping her pistol and pulling it from where it was holstered. Her footsteps make no sound as she creeps her way towards them, only all too aware that she only had a limited amount of bullets and a noise that loud had to count.

 

She shoots one bullet into the back of their head without them knowing she was right there.

 

 

Her body complains as she lifts up Delaware, supporting most of his body and added weight of his armour, but she takes a breath and lets Mu tell her where to go, his voice for once almost coherent, soft in her ears as she breathes heavily, making her way there. She leans him against a wall near one of the airlocks, her back towards the doors that lead to the sealed rooms, she kneels as he slides down the hard metal wall behind him, his consciousness returning to him, hand squeezing her arm and puffing slow breaths to stop his head from spinning. "Hey." His voice is small after a second of breathing, the tone in his voice is playful and she nearly laughs, but opts for pushing his shoulder lightly. "How's your day been?" She can practically see the smirk on his face, and a smile ghosts over her lips, the corners of her mouth turning up ever so slightly at her teammate's joking.

 

Delaware hauls himself up, using the wall as a guide, his head turning as he looked around the room, vision now cleared and the blurring edges fading away. "The guy-" "He's dead." He stares at her for a second, thinking over the words to reply with and how there was a hint of coldness in her voice, wondering if he should be worried, but dropped it, letting the silence say his words without him speaking.

 

"We should regroup with them." Arizona nodded, leading the way out of the room, half expecting the walk back to be filled with small chat while the voices in her head keep themselves on high alert. Neither of them expect to be pushed back into the room to take cover from enemy fire, the sounds of machine gun bullets scraping against crates as they fly past her and embed themselves into another container. Mex's face when she'd suggested joining up flashes through her mind as Delaware pulls her further into the room, their only way out quickly becoming the airlocks in front of them. He was mumbling all sorts of tactics, all of them with her getting out and him not, and she tried to stop him, but not even her AI could see a way out of this with both of them surviving.

 

There was no way of getting out of this, not without one casualty and the other wounded. She pulled him to the airlock and began tying his wrists to a pole until he stops her, "Here, you first." Taking over and switching sides so that they could see oncoming threats, at least that's what she thought, anyway. He takes a breath after securing her ties, closing her hands around the metal and squeezing them tightly before nodding to himself, turning back and in one quick movement, too quick for her to comprehend, he presses the red button, opening the airlock and letting himself be sucked out into open space, crates and some enemies going with him. Arizona stared at his body floating away until the airlock closed automatically, a sob coming from her chest, shoulders shaking and legs giving way as she almost collapsed to the floor in a heap, the yell of Mex coming from down the hallway. Her voice grew louder and louder until she set eyes on her twin, hands since got out of the tie that saved her life, now she was playing with them on her lap, all too aware of the fact that her sister thought she had killed Delaware.

 

She didn't feel like correcting them.

 

 

Arizona pulled at her hair from her position on the floor of the small bathroom, relishing in the sting of pain until it numbed, then grabbing another piece and tugging on it, repeating the cycle over and over.

 

She'd come back, to Freelancer. Played herself straight back into their hands, but there's a difference, this time. This time they won't control her like a puppet, make her dance when it suits them. No. She dances on her own, not when they tell her that its time for a big performance.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i have been itching to write this forever, but i could never get the draft right. im posting this one, because its finally the one that i can fit in there and i know that i can feel confident about posting without me, in a way, spoiling delaware's character for you. so, here it is. the start of arie's canon. the start of it all, really.


End file.
